The many faces of Argentina

The ideal thing would be to stay and share each of the country's beauties with its people. It is true that Argentina is a land of breathtaking images, and that these cover the entire spectrum of the imagination. To simply look, however, without penetrating further through the eyes of its own people, without an awareness of that supple sensitivity that allows an appreciation of its life and times, without visiting the human landscape (far richer than that mountain, that lake, or those vast plains, because they are what made possible that mountain, that lake and that valley), is to deprive oneself
of an essential part of the spectacle.


Thanks to a television program —El Espejo (The Mirror)— that allowed the country to be shown through its people, the writer of these lines was able to capture the superb sights that Argentina holds for us behind the impassive snowfields, the mountains permeated with mystery, the rivers of adventure, the peaceful lakes which bestow such peace and equilibrium on the traveler.

The people who inhabit those shores over a lifetime, or who struggle for generations against the dangers of the forest, the researchers of every little stream, those beings who went along adjusting nature to our advantage, observing her, infiltrating her, talking to her, listening to her; these make an even better postcard of the immense and extraordinary region.


The best way to experience it all is to stay awhile in each place. Argentina has so much to offer that a whirlwind tour can result in nothing more than a few incredible photographs, to incite envy or inspire admiration in those who look at them. What, however, has stayed with us, what really touched our heart and left an indelible mark if we have not heard the waterfalls at night, if we have not walked through the secrets of Iguazu National Park? The moment of true understanding comes when we move past the habitual expressions of astonishment before the inexplicable grace of nature, or when we discard the simple arrogance of thinking that it belongs to us.


There are nearly three kilometers of waterfalls at Iguazu Falls. Vision is lost, the endless tumbling of the water stuns, the walks, moistened by mist or soaked by the splash of the falls against the pools and rocks, amuse. And, my God! How close you are when night falls and, all alone, we choose a lesser path and set out to spy on your wonders! How tiny the facts of the preceding trip: of the river that stretches for 500 kilometers, or that there are nearly 300 falls tumbling in the semicircle of bold, free falling waters, that nearly 80 meters must be crossed to reach the Garganta del diablo (Devil's Throat).

The man who realized himself dancing among ropes, flattened against the rock while moving —impossible to end, to tell, perhaps even to dream— has to provide us with, seem to reside here. Those mountainous chains of diverse rocks, some with vegetation, that Rio Grande whose riverbed shifts under the gaze of simple observation... the solitude they talk about is the first and strongest impression. Its villages are also reminding us that it all began there —Purmamarca, the most memorable one, Tilcara, Tumbaya— all of nature and all of civilization.

Pre-Hispanic relics, vestiges of colonization, churches right out of Andalusia, pagan rites, fantastic stories; these accompany every kilometer covered in a valley that takes no prisoners when one raises one's gaze and the colors emerge to humiliate the artists' palettes. The man who accompanies us surely talks with the rocks, while we begin to feel short of breath during the climb. We are definitely out of breath when we stand for a long time, open-mouthed, in the extraordinary place where we say our good-byes.

That place that speaks to us of the end, or the beginning of everything. The most stubborn solitude, the perfect and harmonious sensation that if we have made it to Glacier National Park then we have seen it all. The fascinating adventure of recollection has taken me through the three most vibrant memories out of the thousands of kilometers covered during that program. I remember that they mentioned, with the camera on the magnificent landscape, that there was an advantage to seeing this on television. This way we could do it little by little.

To arrive and have one's eyes immediately take in so many impressions in a single instant would be to deprive oneself of the tiny discoveries that the camera's narrower eye was allowing us to see. Consciousness should always be gradual, so as not to overdo it, so that there is time to savor, to protect the soul from that sometimes humiliating —but always valuable— feeling of insignificance. If God is not there (and one need not be a pantheist to feel it), He must not be anywhere. When walking over the glories of Perito Moreno Glacier, one can toy with the idea that if God is Nature, and so generous throughout this territory, then God is definitely Argentine.


I recall those blue cracks through which the water runs, moving forward with metallic crampons strapped on so the experience can be enjoyed without difficulties. Walking, and in a little while sensing that Perito Moreno is within hand's reach. A trip in a covered boat from the Magellanic Peninsula precedes the fascinating experience, surpassed only by the period in which, over a couple of days, part of the glacier breaks up until it comes down completely, offering up to the water huge blocks of ice amid a roar like thunder.

This occurs before the curious eyes and moved spirits of hundreds, thousands of travelers come from around the world, knowing that that which they have just witnessed will not repeat itself for a few more years. Reddish as the gorge, blue as the combination of ice and sea, the guides from each place protect and advise us, tell us stories. They know that they possess an invaluable capital. Without their voices nothing would have so much meaning, for they preserve and transmit the message of eternity, of greatness, of spiritual well-being.


Capricious mention has been made of the three places that made the strongest impression on the heart of that journalist who shared these wonders with the entire country. On a unique adventure with technicians and producers who gave of themselves in a formidable act of love for Argentina, to show its every corner to the rest of us, ending each day with a conspiratorial smile as if to say: this is your country, and much more, each day new, each program better, each instant eternal. Be proud, but much more importantly, be grateful.


These lands have received preferential treatment, and you have them at your fingertips. Don't look the other way. Here, just as you see it, is everything: nature and humanity in a perfect union that would only seem imaginable, conceivable and practicable, in poetry. But that metaphor from God belongs to you.

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